Wrong Boy
by anybodynobodysomebody
Summary: Michael Potter is the savior of the wizarding world, The-Boy-Who-Lived, everyone knows that. But one thing that no-one knows is that that's not true. Harry Potter, his twin, is. Wrong-BWL!fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The attack of the plot bunnies has left me victim to 6 stories begging me to be written, this is one of the main ones so I hope you like it...**

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The black cloaked figure walked down the pathway to the small cottage, it's steps slow and predatory, silent and cautious. It stilled as it encountered the front door until the only part of it that was moving was a slim hand that was making complicated patterns in the air with a wand. A small smile graced its face as it got the wanted result and it stood up straighter abandoning all caution as it blasted the door open carelessly and walked inside, its previously quite gait replaced by a powerful stride that was entirely silent.

The inside of the house was quite nicely furnished with a small fire in the caged grate. The floor was covered in toys and story books and the sofa had a large blanket on it, still warm from its previous occupants.

A black haired man stood at the opposite doorway his wand out menacingly but with a look of fear on his face "Get away from here," he said his voice surprisingly steady as the figure walked closer the toys moving out of the way of their own will. The terror on the mans face grew making his voice inadvertently louder "Go. Go away, please. Shoo." The figure laughed, a high cold cackle that only one person would later remember. "Why, James?" the figure said, earning nervous stutters from the man as he got even closer. This time it didn't laugh James was getting a little boring but he would be good fun later. It flicked its wand and a red beam of light collided with James squarely in the chest knocking him over and leaving him lying motionless on the ground.

The figure carried on by and seemed to flow up the stairs a white hand trailing carelessly along the handrail behind it. Once it reached the summit it carried straight onward to the first door on the right following the whimpers that had sprung up after James had fallen. It blasted this door open as well and seemed slightly disappointed as he saw that the woman, Lily, was knocked unconscious on the floor by the flying door her hair spread about her pretty face like the halo of a guardian angel, which was what she was.

It had been planning to shock her with its image knowing it would find the knowing screams amusing but there would be none of them now. But it brought down its hood anyway seeing no reason to leave himself in it's stuffy confines, it tumbled down around his shoulders revealing a head so white it glowed. It was a man, that much was obvious, but he was not an ordinary man.

His bald white scalp was interrupted by blue veins, like cracked ice showing the water beneath. His lips, thin and drawn, were used to smiling with out humor stood out below the slitted snake nose in the center of his face. His cheekbones were sharp and clearly defined along with his jaw, but the most prominent thing were his eyes.

They were large and red, like bloody rubies, cradling thin reptilian pupils that would kill you even much easier than leave you alive. They could cause you a million years of pain or desert you with nothing but a nightmarishly bad memory. These killer eyes were now gazing at the small, white crib in which two baby boys were sitting.

One of them had short dark red hair and baby blue unfocused eyes that had still not yet matured to their proper color even though he was almost a year old, while the other had longer messier black hair that flopped over his forehead, inherited from James,the man who had been downstairs, and pale green eyes that were slightly more defined than his twins. They shared the usual family resemblance but the black haired one was slightly slimmer in body structure whilst the blue eyed one was more stocky.

The dark lord, for what else could he be, frowned, worried. He had hoped that he would know who his rival would be when the time came but now he regretted that childish dream. He had been overconfident, something he would not do again, and now he was faced with a knew he could just kill both but he had had such good, _fun_, plans for the other to completely ruin the spirit of those who were still fighting him.

He looked closely once again, aware that the stunner he had shot earlier would not last long, the two boys had now realized that the stranger lurking over them was not friendly and were reacting differently. It was now obvious who was who. The dark lord reached out to push the crying babe aside but was overtaken by the other boy, his rival, who gently pushed his brother aside with a fierce caring, handing him a little stuffed lion in the colors of Gryffindor house immediately quietening him.

He returned his gaze to the Dark Lord glaring fiercely at the spot where the Lord had touched is brother until Lord Voldemort felt a sharp pain in his finger and saw a small blister appear. He chuckled, actual laughter this time, and wondered how this small blister would kill him exactly, sure, it stung a hell of a lot for it's size but was he going to drop dead from pain? No. And if he did he had made precautions.

He would not die permanently. He raised his arm letting a smallish snake slither out. It was still quite young but was very intelligent and had killed its entire litter making it the vicious killer it was supposed to be and instead of killing it, like he should have when it wandered in during a meeting, he kept it and now it would become one of his most valuable possessions. The boy glared even harder as it tumbled down near his brother and this time a cut appeared on the Lords flat nose. He frowned healing himself with a simple tap, there were noises downstairs James was waking and the first thing he would do is called Dumbldore he took someone he was not willing to face right now.

The Lord took two swift steps backwards and raised his wand preparing for one of the biggest moments of his soon-to-be-eternal life. His wand slashed downwards at the baby accompanied by the quietly spoken words of his most used spell "_Avada Kedavera_"

The jet of green light hit the baby on the forehead knocking him over but he didn't seem to be dead! The Dark Lord lent over the boy to check if he was alive when a wave of energy pulsated outwards breaking everything in its way. As soon as it touched him Lord Voldemort disintegrated into white ash.

Not dead, never dead, but not quite alive either. As the wave hit the snake got thrown away but the tip of its tail dragged along the other child neck leaving a perfectly straight gash there. The baby instantly started wailing once again, climbing on top of his brother to get the attention of his still parents. At the sound there was a pounding on the stairs as James Potter raced up to see with his own eyes that his sons were still alive and had defeated the Dark Lord.

Just as he came in the boy slipped falling on his brother and making it look as if he had protected him. James picked up his conscious son and hugged him deeply sobbing in terror. He swiftly healed the cut on his sons throat and said to him gently, with great awe "You're a very very special person aren't you? Everyone else died when they met You-Know-Who but you, you didn't, you _can't_. Because you lived, didn't you? You're The-Boy-Who-Lived."

The red head gurgled happily at the name, the scar on his throat standing out against his still flawless skin, not knowing that the scar and him combined would ruin his brothers life as _his_ brother took the credit for an act anyone who tried, could see he could never do, but why would they check, the evidence was right in front of them. The-Boy-Who-Lived was Micheal Bryce Potter. Who else could it be?

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**A/N: So what do you think? I tried to make it confusing all through then at the end tell you that Harry is still the Boy-Who-Lived just everyone thinks that it is Michael if that wasn't clear enough. Please and for the more lazy people of you out there use the LRC;**

**Lazy Review Code**

**y = yes**

**n = no**

**o = ok**

**f = fabulous / fantasic**

**a = awful**

**PS: Longer reviews, all criticism and a willing beta will be rewarded with cookies and _really_ appreciated, thank you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the favs, follows and reviews that have led me to discover the LRC is _useless, _ but all the others were fantastic, thanks ****gals ****and ****guys****. **

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_*LATER THAT NIGHT*_

The office was large and silent, the only sounds coming from a collection of spindle-legged instruments clicking away. A blue robed wizard sat behind a enormous desk smoking a pipe that released a bright purple smoke that drifted lazily around the room. A burst of flame interrupted the thoughtful silence revealing a beautiful golden phoenix. Seeing this the man stood up and walked over to the fireplace with a swiftness that his long beard and wrinkles denied. Seconds after he had reached it a woman fell out of the fire which had suddenly grown and turned a fresh minty green.

The mans eyes sparkled in laughter as he said "Oh Lily, still find it so hard to exit a floo" Lily blushed red drawing the attention even better to her eyes which were lively light green. Just then the fire grew once more and a tall black haired man walked out confidently clutching a small redheaded child. He greeted Dumbledore jovially "Hello Professor, how are you?"

"Same as always James, but I see you are here for something more important than my well being."

James grinned as Lily began tickling the child in his arms, it gurgled happily and Lily explained everything swiftly. Near the end of the story a crack sounded as a house elf apperated into the room, tottering under the weight of the young boy in his arms.

The black-haired child rolled out of the house elf's arms and tottered unsteadily towards his dad and brother hugging his fathers leg as tightly as possible once he reached it and saying "up" impatiently, smiling and trying to climb it when nothing happened. What the 15 month old didn't expect was for his father to excuse himself from the conversation for a second and to kick his leg out suddenly causing him to fly off James' leg and get thrown across the room, bursting into wails as he hit the ground hard.

Lily was about to go and comfort her younger son when Michael also started to cry at the jerk he had gotten.

She instantly turned around making a small flicking motion at the house elf, which _chose_ to interpret it as a command to go look after the fallen child. The two parents cooed over Michael not noticing that Harrys' wails stopped seconds after they had turned their backs to him, unnatural behavior for a baby. Once Michael was smiling once more James continued "-And the wall was completely destroyed, most of the room had caved in but there was not a speck of dust on the cot, and little Michael here was standing against the front of the cot shielding his ungrateful brother who had fallen unconscious in terror." he glanced at Harry hate burning in his eyes at the cowardice of his own son, "Then I saw that he had a cut along his neck and I healed it, but the scar wouldn't go away, look its still visible"

Dumbledore peered at the scar through his spectacles. He could sense the dark magic that emanated from that single point. How was he to know that the magic there was only strong because The Dark Lord was not planning on giving up on that snake, in fact he was rather fond of it, to the point he'd put a piece of his own soul in it and anything as important as that deserved _major_ protection.

But the most esteemed light wizard didn't know that, or that a tiny, _tiny_ bit of that protection now resided in his saviors body. All the great wizard saw was the dark magic radiating from that spot.

Michael took the old mans face in his hands and began pulling at the wrinkles. Dumbledore smiled serenely taking delight in the young child's innocence, "This scar is of great power James" Dumbledore said before he reluctantly pulled himself away to look at the other child, Harry, he thought the name was.

Harry was sitting on the cold floor seemingly listening to their conversation with a small frown adorning his face. As Dumbledore came closer Harry looked up at him with intense green eyes that were much too intelligent for their age. Dumbledore couldn't help but flinch violently in shock and a tiny bit of fear as they assessed him.

The boys eyes widened in shock thinking he was doing something bad and in a split second all that intelligence and power was hidden far beyond he reach of anyone but himself.

Dumbledore shook his head wondering what had gotten into him the boy was perfectly ordinary.

He quickly assessed him for traces of dark magic but he couldn't feel anything vaguely evil, in fact he could feel nothing at all. No power whatsoever resided in the child, and as much as Albus hated to say it, _Ariana_, the boy was a squib. He wondered vaguely whether he should tell Lily and James but his mind was already made up, James and Lily needed time to get over the fact that they were bringing up the most important child in wizarding history. This little piece of information could wait another 5 years_ (9 years;10 years; Never; Who cared really)_ and only then would they begin to suspect, and in years to come those few soon-to-be forgotten words allowed one young wizard to bloom, not knowing he was _meant_ to be a squib.

Dumbledore walked slowly to a cabinet that was hidden behind a _thing__, _it didn't really look like anything, and extracted three crystal goblets that he began to fill with a strong amber liquid. He poured in a liberal amount, the steady glugging of the liquid magnifying the tension in Lily and James, and handed them a goblet each.

He gently raised his hand and in a somber voice said, "To Michael Potter, The Chosen One" knowing that all over the country people were doing the exact same thing.

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_*TWO YEARS LATER* 3 years old_

Micheal Potter sat on the rug in front of the fire, his parents crowded around him as he pointlessly acted out a scene with the same stuffed lion that he had held on that fateful night two years ago. James and Lily had tried to get rid of it several times each time being faced with a considerable amount of broken china and an enormous tantrum.

They were very proud of the broken china and always kept at least one piece as proof that their little Mike could do accidental magic and was very powerful to destroy so much at the young age of three, just as he should be, only the best was expected from the boy-who-lived.

The family had changed since the name had been given, each person having gone through things that had changed them drastically.

Lily was no longer the know-it-all show-off mud-blood that most hated or at least disliked, she was now the dedicated mother of the Boy-Who-Lived, the most important light wizard around (except _possibly_ Dumbledore), and spoilt her son silly at every opportunity.

James was the same however the money had gotten his head a little more than Lily and he was no longer the brave Gryffindor that was expected, but like Lily he also spoilt his son beyond what seemed possible.

Michael Potter, the boy in question had got used to the constant pampering he was a beach-ball of a boy dressed in bonnets of many colors which he had finally got the sense to protest against. The moment the words had come out of his plump, overfed lips they were as good as burnt, the fact he had said words had also been a great celebration with everyone he met begging him to repeat them leading to long choruses of "I want, give, now," and a couple of broke shops.

Despite their imperfections the family managed to portray themselves as perfect light family, unknowingly helped by Dumbledore. The only problem with this perfect family, was the second son often, if not always, forgotten, left behind, avoided.

Harry Potter. He was always just _there_ in a corner, when he was brought along, and otherwise seemed to stay in the library, or somewhere in the house as no-one had ever bothered to find out where he was.

There were many house elves but they were forbidden to follow any orders form their young master after Michael hadn't got his warm fresh milk with two big spoons of honey and 1/2 a Honey-dukes finest chocolate bar and 3/4 a pinch of cinnamon and 1 and a 1/2 teaspoons of granddads finest single malt whiskey fast enough because Harry had wanted an apple.

He had thinned drastically after this order because he had to find his own food, and he was never invited to the diner table, and where he had previously been the same size as his older famous twin he was now much, _much_ smaller, the lack of food really getting to him.

Harry never spoke, never wanted attention and never displayed accidental magic, something that would have greatly concerned his parents, had they bothered to could already read and write better than other children thrice his age and his lack of accidental magic was because it was already controlled.

If only someone had looked then, when he was perfect, not later when he wasn't a boy any longer, a time that would come much too fast.

If only...

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**A/N: I hope you liked it. I tried to use a little less description than last time and please point out any mistakes to me again. Thank you for all your support, I'm doing this because of all the people out there who like this fic and my writing instead of when people just agree with me when I saythat my writing is rubbish and then start talking about how good theirs is. Thanks again.**

**P.S. ****I'm sorry but the next chapter might take a while as I'm going to be on holiday _dans le France _(in France)**


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